es of immigrants to the United States. Unused to liberty they
spell it l-i-c-e-n-s-e."

"There are people other than ignorant foreigners who must be watched in
these awful times," the matron said bitterly. "There are teachers in
our colleges who sneer at patriotism just as they sneer at religion.
Whisper, Miss Fielding! I am told that the very man they suspect in
this dreadful thing--the American who has sold a map of this sector to
the Germans--came from one of our foremost colleges, and is an American
bred and born."

Ruth could not speak in answer to this. Her heart throbbed painfully
in her throat. To so accuse Tom Cameron of heartless and dastardly
treachery!

She could not defend him. To defend was to accuse! If everybody
believed this awful thing----

Ruth was just as sure of Tom Cameron's guiltlessness as she was of her
own faithfulness. But how damning the circumstantial evidence must be
against him!

She was thankful she heard nothing more of this thing that night.
Charlie and other men brought in the supplies. She could not arrange
them then, for she was exhausted. She only waited to lock the door
when all the supplies were placed, and then found the hut where the
women of the Red Cross slept.

She had here a narrow cot, a locker and chair, and the privacy of a
movable screen. Nothing else.

This was real "soldiering," as she soon found. Her experiences at Lyse
and at Clair had been nothing like this. In one town she had lived at
a pension, while at the latter hospital she had had her own little cell
in the annex.

However, the girl of the Red Mill never thought of complaining. If
these other earnest girls and women could stand such rough experiences
why not she?

She slept and dreamed of home--of the Red Mill and Uncle Jabez and Aunt
Alvirah Boggs, with her murmured, "Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!" She
was again a child and roamed the woods and fields along the Lumano
River with Tom Cameron and Helen.

"I wish I were at home! I wish I were at home!" was her waking thought.

It was the first time she had whispered that wish since leaving the
States. But never before had her heart been so sore and her spirit so
depressed.

When, some weeks before, she had believed Tom Cameron seriously
wounded, she had been frightened and anxious only. Now the whole world
seemed to have gone wrong. There was nobody with whom she could confer
about this awful trouble.

She arose, and, afte